lepraA Poem by h d e rushin
if the river is, as they say, inalienable, bold without surrender. Inamorata implies
abjectness or indolence. I refuse to acknowledge either one.
what is fantasy for anyway? Love dreams are never accurate. The flowers they keenly
colorize aren't flowers you can trust, transferred from the vase.
the scents they produce, intercepted by the massage of wind, include if you can for
future lovers. Not for me.
I dream too much, think too much, cry in my jacket sleeve too much. But I can locate
a lip in the dark. Yes, I am that good. Can purify each year with the lustrum every five.
I use to find your eagerness in the 42 once quick oatmeal, being a novice, not the old
fashioned kind,we have so little time.No nozzle is sufficent that pours over the outbreak
of your milk body.White as stone, emo, punk rock face you can make when the Domino
sugar clumps together and wont be scattered by the weight of spoons.
you say hder, your never serious. But Hermes makes me serious; God of theft, messenger
of the other gods, I hesitate to love you with that Brazil-nut lethe
let alone that leprechaun hiding place for treasure.
My forgetfullness has forgotten you already.
© 2012 h d e rushin
Added on July 5, 2012
Last Updated on July 5, 2012